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Poor petals ponder
yearning for a drop of sun
Bits of brown
weaken the eye
as poor life withers away
Where’s water’s well
tipping of clear gold
to lavish desert felt
Pieces bend and break
more delicate than before
A sulk of sorrow
withdrawn from the sky
What was variegated and vibrant
now, merely muck
leaving no hope
but for a seed anew

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